


Homeward Bound

by madsthenerdygirl



Category: Alien Quadrilogy (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 09:31:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6369451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madsthenerdygirl/pseuds/madsthenerdygirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hicks takes a trip down memory lane on his way home one night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homeward Bound

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally published on fanfiction.net in 2012 when I was eighteen. I'm now crossposting it here with the rest of my work. This is a companion to my two other Aliens stories, "Leave the Nest" and "Potentially Awkward."

It's one o'clock in the morning by the time he got up to head home. Say what you will about combat, but he'd take flying bullets and roaring tanks over paperwork any day. Still, it kept him stateside, and with his family. He'd fill out whatever forms he had to in order to keep that.

After all, he nearly lost them before he had them.

The day hadn't been overly exciting. The base was currently working on a glitch in some new smart weapons--technology would never beat good old mechanics in his mind--while waiting for WeYu's promised shipment to arrive. He hated testing their products for them but it was his job, and he couldn't allow his personal feelings to get in the way. Especially after that stunt Newt had pulled a couple of years back.

* * *

_The factory was nothing but a raging inferno by the time he arrived. Medics had cleared everyone and were now just standing by with police. He spotted her immediately, wrapped up in a shock blanket._

_She looked like she was expecting a lecture, but he was too grateful that she was alive to even worry about scolding her. They'd have plenty of time for that later, thank God. He enfolded her in a hug, clutching her tightly for a good five minutes before pulling back._

" _You're going to kill me, aren't you?" Newt asked tentatively. He could read in her face that she was fully aware of how badly she'd screwed up._

" _No," he'd responded. "I'm going to let your mother do that."_

_When Ripley got her daughter into her arms, however, she was so busy silently crying that she never did get around to reprimanding her, and he hadn't bothered to remind them._

* * *

 

Turning out the lights, double-checking that everything was secured… and the customary chill down his spine at the darkness. The nightmares had slowly retreated over the years as he got back into combat and back into fighting an enemy that he could handle (namely, a human one), but he still got an involuntary shiver in the first second when the base was suddenly shrouded in both darkness and silence. In moments like this, he could almost smell the chill, foreign air of the colony, and hear the faint scratching as the creatures moved through the darkness. In moments like these, he had to cling to the memory of the nightmares being chased away to prevent the memory of the actual nightmares themselves overcoming him.

He got into the car and started the engine.

* * *

_In all honesty it was Ripley who chased the nightmares away. Combat had definitely helped restore his peace of mind but she was the one who started the process._

_Every night, they'd plague him. Some nights he would be cocooned in, helpless no matter how hard he struggled, watching as an egg unfurled in front of him. Other times he'd relive Hudson's death, feeling his friend slip through his fingers no matter how tightly he held on. And on rare nights, his subconscious would give him a real treat and let him watch Ripley die. Those were the worst._

_He'd wake up, his body practically launching itself out of the bed, shivering, with his mouth open in a silent scream. He tried coffee, alcohol, and pills, but nothing really worked._

_He knew that she knew, but he didn't think that she'd do anything about it. It was a minor shock to feel her slip into bed with him, but he hadn't really resisted. It felt so good to feel another human being, to know that someone else was alive and there with him. He quickly grew accustomed to the feel of her body against his, her soft, lean form pressing against his harder, stockier one, their arms entangling and wrapping around one another instinctively in sleep._

_It wasn't until he realized how much he hated her leaving to realize how much he loved having her stay._

_It was a bold move, but when she tried to slip out again in the early morning hours with dawn just teasing the edges of night, he grabbed her wrist. He didn't have to say anything. She was always so good at reading his eyes. She slid back down so that she was curled next to him again, letting him loop an arm around her waist. With any other person, under any other circumstance, he probably would have felt the buzz of arousal begin to thrum within him. But here, there was just contentment. Neither of them was ready for more just yet._

_And, admittedly, if it had been any other person under any other circumstance, he wouldn't have let them climb into his bed in the first place. He wasn't really the intimate type, whatever Hudson might say. (Speaking of intimate and Hudson don't even get him started on that guy. Not to speak ill of the dead but talk about walking sex organs…)_

_No, for the time being, just lying in bed together was enough. It was more than he'd thought he'd ever get. And with her there, peaceful and warm in his arms, his nightmares slowly faded into the ether._

* * *

He had about an hour before he reached the city, the dark desert stretching out before him in gently rolling hills, like ocean waves frozen in time. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, not letting himself go too fast. It was tempting to kick it into ninety miles an hour but sand often drifted onto the road and was deceptively slippery. Not to mention it was one a.m. and his senses, although not sleepy, were worn and dull at this point. It was better not to risk it.

His remembrance of those early days, before they allowed themselves to acknowledge just how deep their feelings went, set him on a path to remembering other things. He replayed their journey in his mind, savoring the nuggets of normalcy in an otherwise hellish situation.

* * *

_They had pods next to each other, with Ripley on the right. He had a habit of always turning and getting out of the bed or bunk or wherever he was sleeping on the right-hand side, which meant she was the first thing he saw getting out of cyro._

_It was a little hard not to stare._

_First of all, he'd never seen her before in his life. Second of all, Lt. Ellen Ripley was not someone that you just took a glance at and dismissed. She commanded your attention. And she wasn't too bad to look at, either. Lean and long, a bit on the thin side, but it looked like she was soft in all the places that mattered._

" _Yo Hicks. You look like I feel." Drake's deep voice came to him from her other side._

_What Vasquez saw in that guy that was worth banging, he had no idea._

_But it got Ripley to turn, and he got his first good look at her face. He should've been embarrassed that he was full on staring at her, but he wasn't. It was a nice face. He couldn't exactly describe it but she had a kind of… no-nonsense beauty about her. She'd probably look pretty regal in a dress._

_Then he realized that while he was staring at her, she was staring at him, and they were staring at each other, and he got out of the pod and started to get a move on before he let himself look like more of an idiot._

_He wasn't really the type to let himself get distracted by a woman. Vasquez was a guy to everyone except for Drake--but, again, there was no explaining that relationship. Those two were like Dobermans. Dietrich was feminine but she wasn't his type. She was Hudson's, but she had a history of bad relationships and Hudson was decent enough to have a no-dating-coworkers policy. Ferro… don't even get him started on Ferro. That girl could make a sailor blush with her swearing and was a block of ice to any guy who tried to make a move. A few of them had bets that she swung a different way._

_So he was more than a little surprised with how much Ripley fascinated him. She was clearly traumatized by whatever she'd been through but was holding on rather well. She was obviously intelligent, and didn't lose her cool or try to assert her authority, two things that Gorman and Burke weren't doing too well at._

_When she'd asked he and Apone what she could do to help, Apone had responded by asking what, exactly, she could do. She'd shown them exactly what she could do with one of those power loaders._

_She'd surprised the hell out of him. Intelligent, he'd seen that. Collected, he'd noticed. But he had a feeling that this Ripley had a few more things up her sleeve._

" _Where do you want it?"_

_He'd chuckled to hide the fact that he was aroused (when he definitely shouldn't be) and really kind of bowled over. Any concerns about having to spend time protecting her should the shit (whatever that might be) hit the fan were blown away. This was a woman that could clearly take care of herself._

_But if she could take care of herself, then why had he felt so damn protective? Every time that something happened--be it the drop ship exploding or a Facehugger--there was this clawing, tugging need to be there. Eliminate the threat, get her to safety, fling himself in front of her if necessary. There wasn't much of a need; hell, she'd saved his life just as many times, from her know-how on the creatures to crashing the ATC to get them out when they'd been surrounded. Yet something compelled him, kept him reaching out to her._

_When that fucking asshole Burke (there just weren't enough dirty adjectives to describe that guy) tried to impregnate Ripley and Newt--the guy had tried to infect a little girl, of all the low-down selfish heartless things to do--and he'd pulled that disgusting creature off of Ripley with the help of the others and Hudson shot it to bits, he'd somehow wound up with his hand on Ripley's shoulder. The press of her skin, the feel of the taut muscle moving underneath, straining, the line of her shoulder blades… it all told him that she was alive. She was safe. Touching her was a necessity, something that came instinctively and felt more right and natural than it should have._

_Whenever he looked back like this, those two things stood out to him. How she always managed to amaze him and take him by surprise, and how much he needed, no matter how irrationally, to take care of her._

* * *

He turned off the interstate to take the road into the city. The screen on his dashboard lit up, showing a couple of missed messages.

Damn.

Someday he was going to remember to check his phone more often. He hit the button and the messages played back to him.

"Hi Dad!" Newt's cheerful voice filled the car, and he couldn't help but smile. Her voice had deepened slightly and rounded out, becoming a woman's voice instead of a little girl's. "Just wanted to ask when you'd be home this evening. And what Mom's favorite kind of red wine is. I--nothing, Mom! Nothing! I'm talking to Jonathan! Uh-huh. Okay. Yeah, anyway, give me a call when you can. Love you Daddy!"

It was good to hear Newt's voice. He hadn't ever thought of himself as a family man, but he'd grown to care for the girl. She was tough, a real trooper, and smart, too. She was pretty cute as well, with her tiny elfin face, big eyes and ragamuffin hair. He'd seen how she'd latched onto Ripley like a leech, feeding off the woman's strength and turning it into hope.

He hadn't realized how much he'd grown to care for the girl until he'd seen how she had her own nightmares. Ripley was usually there to take care of it--she had a sixth sense for when Newt was having night terrors. But one night Ripley was in the shower when he heard the distinctive whimpers emanating from Newt's room.

* * *

_She was sitting up in bed, clutching at her chest and sheets, her eyes wide and round._

" _C'mere, baby."_

_He scooped her up and she immediately wrapped herself around him, clamping on tightly and burying her head into the crook of his shoulder. She trembled like she had a fever._

" _What happened?" He asked, gently sitting down on the couch._

" _They dragged him through the floor." Newt's voice was soft, so very soft, and tiny, like when she'd first started talking again. "He saved my life and they dragged him through the floor… Game over, man."_

_Hicks swallowed at her parroting one of Hudson's (many) catch phrases._

" _He was a good guy, wasn't he?" He replied, stroking her hair and back. "A little mouthy but a good man. He went down fighting, Newt. I promise you."_

" _I would've given him a grenade," Newt whispered. "I wouldn't have given one to Burke but I'd have given Hudson one if I found him._

" _I could've kept him safe in the vents. Could've kept Timmy safe, too. Should've kept Gorman and Vasquez safe. Should've kept them…" She started crying._

_She'd just turned ten and she had survivor's guilt. They had a long road ahead of them._

" _Oh, baby." Hicks shook his head, holding her tighter. "Now, baby girl, don't you go blaming yourself for this. Nothing that happened was your fault, you hear me? You got us out of there, didn't you? You got Mommy and me out of there. I don't want to hear you beating yourself up about this."_

" _Aye-firmative," she whispered._

" _Good girl." He continued to hold and stroke her until her sobs began to quiet._

_Ripley nearly tore the door off its hinges as she flung it open, dripping wet, the towel hastily wrapped around her not doing nearly a good enough job of covering her up. Hicks swallowed. He hadn't realized how long her legs were until that moment._

_Jesus._

" _There's Mommy." He turned just a little to let Newt peek out from the safety of his shirt and look. "See? We're all okay."_

_Newt raised her head, and then she was out of his arms like a slippery fish and crashing into Ripley, wrapping her arms around her legs and hugging tightly. Ripley stumbled, nearly falling, the towel slipping slightly._

_His mouth was drier than the Gobi Desert._

_Ripley picked up the little girl, cuddling her and murmuring soothing words. "Thank you," she'd mouthed at him._

_He shrugged, his eyes on Newt. She looked so content and happy in her mother's arms, like she knew that this was the safe haven of the world. He smiled._

_That was the first moment he thought of Newt as his little girl._

* * *

The next message was from Ripley.

"Hey, honey, sorry to bother you, but did Newt give you a call earlier by any chance? She's up to something… anyway, I know you won't be home until late but don't run yourself into the ground."

There was a slight pause before her next sentence.

"Drive safely, Dwayne."

It was always difficult for them to express themselves out loud. But in that sentence, the concern for him, the use of his first name--all of it was more than enough for him. He knew how she felt.

* * *

_In the Marines, you have one name, possibly two: your last name and whatever unfortunate, unflattering nickname that your comrades come up with--usually after a couple rounds of the strong stuff._

_He was lucky. He was in a group of supposed 'professionals', and they all stuck to last names. Hudson teased him about his first name once, and Apone had used it when giving him a heart-to-heart, but that was it._

_First names were intimate. More intimate than, well, traditional intimacy. You can have sex without knowing the person's name. But giving them permission to address you informally? That was a huge step. First names meant camaraderie, friendship, ease, being comfortable with one another and yourself when you were around them. It was a sign of trust._

_But when he saw her strapping up to go after Newt, he feared that it would be the last time that he ever saw her. He didn't want it to be the last time. He wanted to see her again, and again, and again._

_So he offered himself up to her. He offered his trust, his support, and his identity._

" _Dwayne. It's Dwayne."_

_The look on her face was one of surprise. Ha. Evened the score a little. But then she smiled – not with her mouth, although that did twitch a little, but with her eyes. He could see the warmth blooming there like tiny fires, and he felt his chest fill with answering flame._

" _Ellen."_

_He grinned._

" _Don't be gone long, Ellen."_

_He knew than that he'd see her again. And when he did, he'd tell her that he liked her name._

* * *

Turning left was kind of a bitch at times. His skin had recovered well but he was forever a little stiff in his neck, and after a long day it honest to God hurt to look over his left shoulder. Still, he knew that he was lucky. It could have been much worse.

* * *

_It hurt like a motherfucker, the burning worse than anything he'd ever felt before. And he'd felt explosions, fires, bullets, grenades and bombs so that was fucking saying something._

_No wonder Hudson kind of freaked out when some of that shit got on his arm. Son of a bitch that acid was pure concentrated liquid flame._

_Bishop took care of him calmly and quickly, applying the proper salves and injecting him with something to help start rebuilding the skin cells. He cleaned off the dead skin that sloughed off, and made sure that he didn't lose anything vital._

_Still, the pain didn't completely fade away. It was drawing him into madness, making him want to scream and flail about and kill something, anything, just to distract from the pain of it._

" _I'm going to have to put you under," the android explained._

_He trusted Bishop. He'd been with the guy on previous missions and he trusted him with his life (and Hudson's hand). But he wasn't taking any chances. He'd never really had a family, not for years, but he was starting to get one again and he wasn't about to let that slip away._

" _You wait for them, you hear me? You are not leaving without them," he said, his words bursting out of him on each pained exhale. "That's an order."_

" _The order was unnecessary," Biship assured him. "They'll make it in time."_

_As he felt the needle prick his arm and everything faded to black, he clung to her name._

_Ellen, Ellen, Ellen, Ellen, Ellen…_

* * *

He tried calling once he reached downtown, the streets and massive buildings silent and empty for once, but he got her voicemail. He doubted she was asleep--she had a habit of waiting up for him no matter how many times he told her to get her rest--so she was either in the shower or with Newt. At this time of night, Newt was the best bet. The nightmares had died down but she still got them about once a week or so.

"Hi, you've reached Ripley. Leave a message and I might get back to you. Unless your name is Newt, in which case no, curfew is the same time, I'm not letting you stay out later, don't push your luck."

There was a beep.

"Hey, it's me," Hicks spoke. "Just letting you know that I'm on my way home. I'm hoping that you're asleep, but if you get this message feel free to call back. I've got nothing but boring road ahead of me for the next half an hour." He terminated the call.

It always did him good to hear her voice, even if it was just a recorded message he'd heard half a dozen times. She had a habit of calling his phone when she knew he was busy and leaving flirtatious messages, but he just called to hear her. He didn't even care what she was saying--just the tone and inflection of her voice washing over him was enough.

* * *

_Speaking of flirting… don't get him started on that. Just don't. It's a slippery slope with them._

_He was beat on the touching thing. And the bracelet, she had him there. He was struggling so hard not to blush or say the wrong thing. He just wanted to keep her safe! She was technically a civilian and it was the responsible thing to do, so why the hell was he so damn embarrassed about it? He'd felt practically giddy when she'd accepted it, clearing his throat and making a quip about being engaged to cover up his nervous fidgeting._

_But the gun thing they both argued about, and would keep arguing about, until one of them died from pure stubbornness._

_Okay, so maybe he took a bit longer than he needed to in positioning her arms. And maybe he didn't need to wrap his arms around her like that, or press himself flush against her back. But she wasn't helping with how she pressed right back, turning her head so that their noses were brushing and her mouth was right by his ear._

_And the "Show me everything. I can handle myself"? God, if that didn't send blood rushing to somewhere other than his brain…_

_Although he could admit he was the one who said, "You're ready again."_

* * *

She didn't greet him at the door, which told him that she'd either taken his advice (and maybe pigs were flying) or she was with Newt. He'd never tell her, but he missed it when she wasn't there to slip her arms around him as he hung up his jacket, pressing her lips into his shoulder blades and asking him when he'd start working nine to five like any sensible person.

Although none of her greetings were as enthusiastic as the one when he'd gone MIA for a little over three weeks.

* * *

_He'd barely hung on through the debriefing, the explanations and the sorting out and the paperwork. The second he'd been dismissed he jetted out of there like the base was about to blow up, making it back to the house in an hour._

_There was one light on, the kitchen light. Bishop went to bed like clockwork and Newt was of an age when a bedtime of seven a.m. could still be enforced, so it could only be her._

_He'd missed her. He'd missed her so much it was like his heart wasn't even in his chest anymore. God help him if they went back to their former sleeping arrangement because he knew that he wouldn't be able to stand it._

_But the second he'd stepped through the door she'd been on him. He only had time for a bare impression of her, standing at the kitchen counter contemplating a bag of coffee and a bottle of alcohol like it was a Sophie's choice, and then she was there, in his arms, and her lips were against his and her lean, warm body was pressed against him and maybe all those Sundays spent in the army chapel weren't wasted after all if this is his reward._

_It was hands-down the hottest, most desperate, passionate kiss he'd ever had. She kissed him like he was her life, her air supply, her hands clutching at his shoulders and the back of his neck. He kept his arms around her, holding her, because he could feel how weak her knees were and if he let go he was pretty sure she'd just sink to the ground._

" _Got back six hours ago. Been in debriefing for the past five. I would've called, but…"_

_He was going to say, 'but I didn't want to disturb you'--it was four in the morning, after all--but she kissed him again and he sort of lost all ability to link his thoughts together into a cohesive pattern._

_He was beyond pleased, but more than a little surprised, when she wordlessly led him to her bed. He could feel that this was different, that it would be different from then on, and he shook his head a little at the realization that this woman was never going to stop throwing him for a loop._

_While he'd had the wisp of the thought float through his brain or dart across his consciousness at times, that was when it really sunk in. In those moments, as he slid his hands up the sides of her chest, seeing and feeling her lithe body, all clean lines and hard core…_

_Ellen Ripley was beautiful._

_Maybe not like the girls in the magazines or anything you'd pin up on a wall. She wasn't short and curvaceous and feminine and pouting. But she was beautiful, and she was his, and he loved her, damn it._

_He tried to kiss every inch of her skin, and he thought that he might have succeeded. She didn't cling to him--she gripped him, held him, and he thought that maybe he surprised her a little with just how much he loved to explore her body. It had been a good few years since he'd been with a woman, any woman, but she was such a wonder. He wanted to explore every bit of her, see how many sounds and reactions he could get out of her._

_And holy mother of God, were her legs long. They wrapped all the fucking way around. All. The. Fucking. Way._

_Jesus._

_(And now he sounded like Hudson. Crap.)_

_They were pretty quiet, all things considered. He barely made a sound as he unloaded, and her gasp was strangled as if her throat closed up instinctively. He wondered if it was residual survival instincts from back on the colony. He wondered if they'd have done it then, given into the sensations tugging at the edges of their tentative relationship, if they'd still have made it to this place and become what they were to each other._

_He thought that they still would have. If anything, he might have been a bit more addicted to her._

_She let him hold her afterwards, something he considered akin to an honor in Ripley's book. She laid her head on his shoulder and he let himself trace little patterns into the skin of her shoulder with his index finger, his nose in her hair and inhaling the scent of sweat and sex and Ripley._

_He didn't know exactly when he drifted off but when he awoke the next morning she was staring at him, smiling in that special way of hers, like she had a private joke running through her head._

" _Morning," she whispered._

_And when he gave into the urge to raise himself up and kiss her, she responded._

* * *

He found her asleep in Newt's bed, spooning the girl protectively. He placed his hand on her shoulder and gently shook her awake. Ripley stirred, blinking blearily and looking up at him.

"Hey," she murmured, her voice slightly clogged with sleep. She stretched. Newt didn't stir, the lines of her face smoothed out in peaceful slumber. Whatever monsters had been chasing her earlier, they were banished now.

"I thought you might feel more comfortable in your own bed." He grinned. "Although, you two look rather cute all cuddled up."

She let him haul her to her feet, leaning against him as he tucked Newt in and kissed his daughter's temple. Ripley nearly dozed off in the ten seconds it took to complete the task.

"C'mon," he whispered. "Let's go to bed."

She followed him compliantly, but in the twenty steps or so it took to get to their room she woke up more. He shed his shirt and pants absently, leaving him clad in nothing but boxers. He'd shower in the morning. Ripley stripped down to a tank top and underwear.

When they slipped into bed, she straddled him. He looked up at her, surprised in the best way.

She answered his unspoken question.

"I missed you." This statement was accompanied by a shrug.

He wondered what had brought that on, but figured that she'd tell him when she was ready.

"Well, far be it from me to complain." He tugged her down to him, slotting his lips over hers.

He definitely knew that something was up when, after they were spent, she asked him about the tracker. She had her head at the juncture where his shoulder and chest met, one arm slung over his chest while he kept an arm around her, absentmindedly tracing patterns into her skin. It had become a bit of a habit for him. He couldn't see her face, but he could tell by her tone of voice that she had something on her mind.

"Dwayne?"

"Hmm?"

"Remember when you gave me that tracker bracelet?"

"Yeah. I was so nervous. You'd think I was giving you a bouquet of roses."

"Did I blush?"

"I have no idea," he admitted. "I was too busy trying not to blush or blurt out something stupid."

Ripley started laughing.

"Hey--it's not funny!" He spluttered. "I was awkward as hell!"

* * *

_At least he wasn't awkward when he proposed to her._

_He ran through the various possible scenarios and decided that simplicity and privacy were best. So he'd chosen a secluded spot on their favorite walk through the local park._

_But first, he had to talk to Newt._

" _Hey, baby girl."_

_Newt smiled and crawled into his lap. He took a deep breath._

" _I want you to know you're my little buddy, okay, Newt? I'm going to ask you a question and no matter what answer you give me, we're still going to be buddies. That okay, baby?"_

_Newt nodded._

_Now or never…_

" _Would it be okay if I asked Ripley to marry me? Would you like a new Dad?"_

_Newt gave him the look that meant 'you adults are so stupid sometimes.'_

" _You're already my Dad. Marrying Ripley will just make it official. Does this mean I have to be interviewed by people to make sure it's okay that I'm your daughter?"_

" _No, baby, that's only with adoptions and alien survivors."_

" _Good." Newt nodded. "Good."_

_Actually asking Ripley was by far the scariest thing he'd ever done. But her reaction was worth it._

_She hadn't said yes, per se, but she kissed him like they were slightly tipsy and in their bedroom so he assumed that her answer was a positive one._

_It was one of the few times he'd said the words out loud._

" _I love you."_

_He felt a single tear pass from her cheek to his as she whispered in his ear, "I love you too."_

_Newt crowed and did a victory dance, kicking up leaves._

* * *

 

The next morning was not going to win any prizes soon.

Newt had a hangover. How on earth could Ellen have let her get a hangover? And what was this about visuals and flirting and while he always loved a make out session he suspected that his wife's oral mauling of him at the coffee maker was her way of proving something to the daughter now retching in the toilet.

Now, Newt had vomited into the porcelain throne many a time, but that was accompanied by either a fever of a hundred and four or nightmares about Facehuggers. This time, his eighteen-year-old baby was clutching her forehead and muttering about…

Wait--had Ellen just said  _vodka_?

But it was home, and he wouldn't trade it for the world.


End file.
